


Darkness Falls

by mssticha



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Possible future Shakarian, Shenko past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssticha/pseuds/mssticha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events at Horizon sent Shepard into a tailspin. Now she's lost all hope and is loose on the Citadel. Past Shenko set in ME2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sharp clicks echoed through the CIC, getting louder as they approached the cockpit. Only two people aboard felt sexy legs were worth the risk of a blown ankle… well, three if you counted him, but they didn't need to know that. Besides, it wasn't his ankle on the line. It wasn't Samara since she disappeared into the Citadel as soon as they landed, hot on the trail of an important lead of some sort or another, so that only left one possible person. He started speaking to her before he fully turned around.

"Hey Miranda, any idea when Shepard will be back? I'm ordering food and wanted… to… time…" Joker's words drifted away along with his ability to form complete thoughts. The sight before him rendered him absolutely speechless, which was a feat unto itself.

A strange, twisted version of Shepard approached the front of the ship. They'd known one anther most of their lives, yet this was a look he'd never seen before – never even imagined possible. It looked as though Jack and Miranda actually worked together for the first time, taking the most scandalous parts of their respective wardrobes and throwing them together, and the result was the barely-clad demon doll heading straight for him. In their respective wardrobes Miranda always looked self-assured and almost classy, and Jack was… well, terrifying, but Shepard trumped them both somehow. Shepard made it look deadly – hot (though he would never admit that as long as he lived), but deadly.

Ridiculously high heels of Shepard's polished black boots clicked with each long stride, her hips swaying dangerously to the staccato beat. The body of the footwear blended seamlessly with the shiny, formfitting pants hugging her curves, while two thick straps of the same material crisscrossed her chest, covering the bare minimum and nothing more before merging with the pants on each side to form some bastardized jumpsuit. Pale alabaster glowed in sharp contrast to the dark material, highlighting the fine web of unhealed scars lacing her skin peeking from the plunging neckline and cutouts along her torso, back, and sides of her chest, creating the image of cracked glass that was too strong and stubborn to shatter.

"Oh… um… hey Shepard, I didn't know you were back already," Jeff stuttered, attempting to fill the awkward silence that fell over them once he realized he'd been staring. There was no response. Concern knotted his gut as he searched her face for clues. He was adept at reading her after years of practice, but what he saw was no help. Shepard's short, fire-red hair was slicked away from her face to provide a clear view, but she was unreadable. She steadfastly avoided eye contact. That was the crucial ingredient, and she knew it, so her eyes focused into a thousand-yard-stare on a point above his head. Her features said plenty, though. Her lips paled from the pressure of being pursed together, the lack of color more startling in contrast with the glowing orange scars across her face pulsing with the too-rapid beat of her heart. 

"So… how'd things go with Anderson?"

"I'm going out and won't be back tonight." Shepard outright avoided the question, which was all the answer he needed. A long black coat with an oversized hood slid over her body as she spoke and her figure instantly disappeared into the murky shadows within. The clasps across her chest molded the top of the loose garment to her ample figure as the rest flowed freely around her, but at least she was covered.

"Where're you heading, an ancient Druid festival? Is it a solstice or something? I mean, really, what's with the Bondage-Barbie get-up?" Joker was desperate, throwing everything out to goad a reaction, but there was none; Shepard merely focused on the door in front of her. The button chimed as she pressed it and waited. Time was running out.

"What the hell's going on?" Joker outright demanded. He was scared for his best friend. He knew full well how much she wrestled with everything that happened to her, which was totally understandable; she was forging new territory and nobody really knew how to guide her through it, yet she somehow held on by her fingernails and made it look effortless to everyone she'd kept at a distance. But he knew of the struggle. He heard her sobs in the deep of the night. He saw the strain painted across her face in the wee hours of the morning. But she held it together enough to stay functional and fool almost everyone else... then Horizon happened. There was no more hiding it. Even the newbies on the ship grew concerned for her wellbeing after that fiasco, momentarily forgetting all their own problems as she fought to maintain composure until locked within the confines of her personal quarters. She'd never admit it, but now everyone knew the truth.

Joker waited patiently until Shepard finally turned to face him. Their eyes met and in that one moment his heart shattered. Those once-vibrant little windows to her soul were dull, closed off; she completely shut down. "Talk to me, Rae… please," he begged. He'd only seen her like this twice before, and she barely survived the last time. If she left now, like this…

"No." The icy whisper was so hardened, so cold it lanced right through him, rendering him speechless once more. Shepard's eyes flashed dangerously as she pulled the hood over her face. Her features disappeared into the shadows, but the haunting glow lingered. "I may be a bit slow on the uptake, but I've learned my lesson. When you let people get close you're just giving them ammunition and a wider target for their attacks. Well, I'm done." She slid through the doors and was gone.

He watched helplessly as Shepard disappeared into the crushing crowd along the docks, his breath leaving him just as surely as she did. "Garrus!" Joker shouted over the comms the second he remembered to breathe. She was flying solo, completely shut down, and looking for a fight. And there was no way in hell she was armed in that outfit; there wasn't room for a credit chit in that garb. And he suddenly realized she wasn't wearing her 'tool, either, so they couldn't even track her down. If he didn't work fast there was a good chance she wouldn't survive the night, and there was no way he could handle this task alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The mark was getting closer by the second. It was always so much easier when they made the unwitting approach, not that someone this easy wasn't worth a little footwork. A young woman navigating the Citadel alone at this time of day was practically asking for trouble and something about the way she moved caught his attention and wouldn't let go. This was going to be like taking candy from a baby. There was nothing to do now but wait.

The unremarkable man casually leaned against the railing, blending into the surroundings with an ease that had been honed to precision by a lifetime of practice. Being completely and totally average had its perks, which he put to use on a regular basis. You had to learn a skill really fast when you lived on the streets and this one was as good as any; lucrative enough to keep him going while considerably safer than the high-stakes gigs. He may not have a swanky apartment, but he was never hungry for long and the worst he faced was a run-in by C-Sec followed by a short stay and another line on his sheet. That was good enough for him.

The young woman stopped an arm's length away and leaned over the railing to admire the stunning view of the nebula, just like he knew she would. He closed the distance without a sound, making sure to stay just far enough away to avoid drawing attention, and then reached forward with confidence.

"Hey!" the man shouted in a mix of shock and anger as someone grabbed his extended hand and used the momentum to spin him around with frightening speed. He forced himself to relax long enough to assess the situation. Hasty actions often ended in death.

It was impossible to tell who intervened, despite the fact that they still had a firm grip on his wrist. A long dark coat obscured their body and the hood kept most of their features in shadows, but this was definitely a woman, that much was sure. Tits that fine were hard to miss. Her full pink lips turned up into a wry smile as her hand tightened its grip, making the tendons and bright blue veins stand out against her impossibly pale skin; she didn't flinch or relax at the abrupt shout, so she wasn't afraid of drawing attention.

"Are you ok?" the young woman, his mark, asked hesitantly.

She was still naive and hopeful enough to think she could do something to help people in any situation without concern for her own wellbeing. She was fresh off the shuttle with her entire life on her back, eager to make a fresh start. And all of that could've been his. That was out the airlock now; she'd seen his face, gotten too close. She was the perfect mark, and she was going to slip away.

A look of concern crossed her face when she didn't get an immediate answer. "Do you need me to call the authorities?"

"No," the man responded right away. The pain shooting up his arm from the sudden tightening of the hand had nothing to do with it, either. The authorities were the last thing he wanted. They were probably already looking for him after his last few jobs, anyway. No need to make the situation worse. He forced his body to relax as he offered a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, thanks. My cousin surprised me. That's all."

The young woman held her ground, her bright eyes darting between the two figures in front of her. "I can help you get away if you're in danger. Just say the word," she whispered into the man's ear as she stared at the other woman. Her eyes were wide with terror as she noticed the faint orange glow pulsing within the hood's darkness, like she'd finally seen a nightmare come to life, but she wouldn't back down.

The women stared at one another across the short distance, the young woman glaring defiantly while the dark-clad woman's mouth turned down into a soft, almost sad frown. A horrible but all too familiar sensation washed over his body originating from his wrist – the point of contact – and felt exactly like the time he got hit with the tail-end of an electromagnetic shockwave by being in the wrong duct at the wrong time; his muscles contracted and his breath caught in his throat, but it only lasted a second. The bitch shocked him somehow. He couldn't let on, though, since they were under keen observation. "No, really, I'm fine. Thank you, though." He held his smile until the woman finally nodded and walked away.

"What's this all about?" he hissed as soon as they were relatively alone.

"Do you feel bad?" the dark woman asked with genuine curiosity. "You were going to take everything thing she had, leave her impoverished and stranded on her very first day here, and yet she risked her life to assure your safety."

"We all have to eat, sugar. She would've found a way. They all do. The Citadel can never have enough dancers, and I would sweep in to save the day when she finally accepted that harsh reality. Hook her up with a bar that's always hiring; give her a little nose-candy encouragement… We all win." There was no point denying the truth. Anyone as fast and scary as this bitch knew what was up, anyway. "So, what… you just here to be my moral compass? Because you're about 15 years too late, honey."

"No, I just want a little information… directions, if you will."

"I'm not your information terminal," he spat.

The glow under the hood brightened as the woman's lips turned up in a wide sardonic smile. Blinding pain accompanied a sharp crack that echoed through the ward's level. The man bit back a scream as his hand went numb, but a low moan escaped his suddenly dry throat despite his best efforts. People were starting to stare. From off in the distance, a C-Sec officer exited a shuttle and walked up to the naïve young woman - his lost mark. She gestured wildly and the armored turian nodded and began making his way over. It was only a matter of minutes before he'd arrive.

"Let's try this again," she spoke with the optimistic patience of a parent to a small, obstinate child. "I'm looking for a bar…"

"There's one right behind you, you daft cunt." There was a wet pop and stomach churning pain, and then his arm went limp and useless.

The officer was at the end of the shopping block and closing the distance fast.

"Do I really look like the dancing type?" she asked with a wistful sigh. "That's a club. I'm looking for a bar – someplace to sit on my ass and forget my troubles. A place people don't ask questions."

"Absolutely, anything you want, ma'am," the man stammered as a thick sheen of sweat dripped off his face, a physical manifestation of combined fear and pain. If she wanted a bar, she'd get a bar.

There was a bar – an honest, no frills bar that somehow flew under the radar for the average resident – less than a block from their current position, but that wasn't the one he provided. She was going into the depths of hell, literally and figuratively, to a location in the deepest recesses of the ward full of the banes of existence; as far from him as humanly possible. The fact that she caught him unawares was reason enough to be wary, but she broke his body in plain view of others without batting an eye. Through his line of work he'd become acquainted with some of the nastiest people on the Citadel, but even they avoided conducting business right out in the open, and never within sight of C-Sec. This mystery woman with lightning fast speed and zero fucks to give terrified him, and he'd do anything to get her as far away from him as possible – hopefully for good.

Every one of that bar's regulars would kill a man just for looking in his general direction, so there was a good chance she wasn't going to survive the night, but he was damn well going to get as far away from the Citadel as his meager funds could manage, just in case.


	3. Chapter 3

Grunts, heavy breathing, and sounds of flesh smacking flesh echoed from the dark alleyway. It was impossible to tell exactly what nefarious deeds created the current soundtrack for this dark corner of the ward since the engaged figures were little more than slightly darker points in the shadows and this was the sort of neighborhood that curiosity often proved fatal. The few people along the main walkway skittered by as fast as possible, keeping their eyes forward at all costs as a deep groan and high-pitched cry of either pain or pleasure mingled, their chorus signaling the grand finish.

Sudden silence practically rang through the air with the completion of the act. One of the participants laid prone on the ground in complete disregard of the broken glass and rotting scraps of litter underneath, their sudden snores shattering the hush within the dark alley. The second figure straightened their clothes with a self-satisfied grin curving up one side of their face. Fatigue made every movement slow and precise, but that was part of the gig. Complete exhaustion was a sure sign of a good time, and by that measurement this was one for the books.

"Wake up," the second figure called out, smacking the other person's cheeks much harder than necessary. "I want you awake for this so you'll never forget it." Their hands slid up and down the prone figure, giving the sensitive areas a little extra attention along the way. This wasn't about pleasure; this was a show of power. The person on the ground was helpless to stop the intrusive touches and they both knew it. Then one hand found something far more interesting than stray bulges of flesh.

"Let's call this an asshole tax," the cool, detached female voice announced as her hands locked on a bag secreted away in the dark depths of the other person's pants. "You really helped me work up an appetite, so the least you can do is pay for my dinner."

Muffled protests filled the silence… or maybe they were moans of pain. They all sounded the same when they came from under a boot. She was having none of it, though. A mocking smile twisted her mouth as she ground her heel into his cheek for good measure.

“Maybe you’ll think twice before jumping someone wandering through the wards. Not every unaccompanied woman is completely helpless, you know.” She pulled the bag free of its very private hiding spot, but the pungent smell that wafted up was almost too much. Bile rose in a slick slide, gaining momentum for a rapid release, but she choked back the gag. This was no time to show weakness. Her eyes widened in the dim light as she rifled through the contents, and she whistled low as she pulled the large wad of cash free. “Looks like you’re covering my entire night, and it just got a lot more entertaining.”

She sat back to look the thug in the eye, and it was the first time they actually saw one another's faces. His eyes widened and he started shaking uncontrollably as he took in her glowing scars and angry sneer. It was doubtful he actually recognized her in the darkness; this was simply a gut reaction to what he saw before him, though his brain refused to believe what his eyes relayed. She was a walking, talking nightmare. The look of pure horror on his swollen, bloody mug, said things would've gone considerably different if he'd actually seen her in the first place, but it was too late for that. That's why she hid under the hood.

"You're returning from a run, aren't you? Drugs or slaves?" she asked as she counted her spoils. "Doesn't really matter. I bet someone's waiting for this… and getting impatient. It's one hell of an expensive lesson for you, and maybe you'll survive long enough to learn from it. I suggest you start running now because the person waiting for this won't forgive a loss this big." She started to stand, but suddenly dropped back to a crouch by his side. "Oh… you'll probably want to see a doctor first, though."

One pale hand flickered with blue light as it disappeared into the panicked man's pants, but there was no escape; she held him firm. Intense pressure and pain radiated from the tenderest point of his body as her hand found its mark and squeezed until something popped. The man rolled onto his side and vomited violently.

"And that's for trying to rape me." Fire burned in her eyes, but her frown softened slightly. "You never know what a simple please can get, since I sure as shit didn't dress like this to keep warm… But don't dwell on that; you're personal hygiene's a deal breaker anyway. Keep that in mind if you ever get that thing to work again."

She stood, pulled the hood over her face once more, and ventured out into the light, heedless of the shrieks behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Helplessness and fear may have spurred him into action, but these feelings weren't welcome on the ride. He had to push all that aside since they were counter-productive and caused two things they really couldn't afford: self-doubt and inaction. It wasn't too hard, though. One thought of Shepard's dim eyes turned that fear into hot, raging fury. He took that feeling and held on for dear life, letting the bitter warmth course through his body with every beat of his heart. Anger was the perfect motivator. His body trembled with rage as he paused outside the door. The only problem now was a proper entrance – one that really grabbed attention. Old-fashioned hinged doors were perfect for times like these. Nothing screamed 'I'm pissed, now listen to me' quite like kicking a door open. It was probably a good thing that wasn't an option, though. Breaking a leg with the initial kick then knocking yourself on your ass with the bounce-back would destroy the image pretty handily. That really didn't matter. There were other ways to get the point across.

"What did you do?" Joker demanded the moment the doors slid open.

A startled young man looked up from the desk closest the door. "I'm sorry sir, but you cannot…"

"This is new…" Garrus muttered under his breath from the doorway as his eyes landed on the owner of the snide voice. 

"Save it desk-jockey; this doesn't concern you," Joker snapped as he marched into the office as best he could. "I'm looking for Anderson."

"Councilor Anderson is not available for walk-ins." A look of haughty disdain crossed the receptionist's face. He was unimpressed with the new arrival, but that didn't last once the considerably pissed and remarkably well-armed turian finally appeared in the first man's wake. Intimidating anger radiated off Garrus. It was the physical manifestation of the contempt both men felt, he was just better at relaying it with a subtle glare in a way to make self-important secretaries quake in their polished seats.The terrified human male stared back, all color draining from his sweaty brow. So much for job performance under stress. To be fair, though, secretaries weren't paid to assist angry, armed intruders. The fact they'd hired someone to begin with was the most unusual part. Udina never had a secretary, which was probably a good thing. The poor soul suckered into the position would've been abused and humiliated on a daily basis. Plus, Udina wasn't quite powerful enough to merit one, no matter what he thought. That jerk deserved more humiliation than he got when Shepard publically suggested someone else for 'his' promotion

"Is there a problem here?" A familiar voice called out in thinly veiled contempt.

"Alenko," Garrus greeted coolly as the Alliance soldier rounded the corner. He received a tight nod in return, but neither man fully relaxed.

"Great, you're here too," Joker practically spat at his former friend. "You know what? That's perfect, actually. I won't have to repeat myself."

"Jonathon, I think this is a good time to take a break," Anderson said as he came into view, but his eyes were locked on the new arrivals.

The younger man left without a second glance, but Joker didn't wait for privacy. He spun to face the human Councilor, hazel eyes flashing furiously. "What the hell did you do?"

"That's no way to speak to a superior officer," Alenko admonished.

"Spare me; he's not my superior in any way – neither of you are. I'm not Alliance anymore and you both know it. And I'm clearly a better person than either of you so back off. There may be a lot of shit between you and me, but this isn't about us." Joker reached near hysteria as he shouted at the two men in front of them, but neither of them really understood why. Alenko desperately turned to the calmer person staring him down from afar.

"Shepard," was all Garrus would say.

"So what, you two came over to complain on her behalf? Or did she send you to do her dirty work?"

"Are you kidding? Do you know what she'd do if she knew we were here right now? Well, what she'd normally do…" Joker's voice trailed off as the image of her dull, emotionless eyes suddenly came to him once more. A heavy ached settled into his chest, but he pushed it aside. He had to hold on to the anger. Her safety depended on it. "The fact that you even asked that says more than you know. You've completely forgotten the woman behind the name. Or maybe you never really knew her in the first place," Joker spat. He knew the remark hit home when Alenko's face fell and his jaw clenched. Good. Mr. Alliance needed to feel some of the pain he'd caused. Satisfied, Joker spun to face Anderson. "You, on the other hand, have no excuses. You knew her longer than anyone but her mother. I don't know what you said today…"

"And you won't. That discussion was private and confidential."

“I don’t care. You know what you said, and I hope it haunts you. The two of you accomplished the impossible.” Joker’s harsh gaze flicked between the two Alliance men, desperate to make sure they both heard every word he was about to hit them with. “You managed to do what countless enemies never could – what even death couldn’t manage. You broke her.” The men stared one another down until the room practically vibrated with tension, but nobody wanted to be the first to break.

A chime shattered the silence.

Garrus looked down at his glowing wrist and sighed. This was a start, at least. He answered the call fully aware of the audience, but time was of the essence. "Lamont, thanks for getting back to me," he greeted tentatively. The other side of the conversation was muddled for the humans, but Garrus understood and responded immediately. "Yeah, I know, but I really need a favor on this and you owe me. Just pass along any sightings and we'll handle the rest. It's important – Defcon Sheila." He held his breath until there was a response. "Thank you. Now I'll owe you one."

"I've never heard of Defcon Sheila." Anderson didn't try to hide the fact that he'd eavesdropped. They all had.

"Of course you haven't; Sheila's Lamont's ex-wife."

Slowly-dawning terror slid across Alenko's face as he slowly pieced it together. "What happened?" he asked in a harsh whisper. Nobody responded. He closed the distance to Joker in two long strides and dropped to his knees next to the man, silently pleading with his eyes. "Shepard…"

"She disappeared. She's alone, unarmed, and shattered thanks to you two… and we don't know where to even start looking."


	5. Chapter 5

"You've got to be kidding me." The exasperated whisper, drowned out by the harsh crash as the metal grate slammed into place, may as well have been a pathetic scream into the void. Nobody heard it either way. Chances were good they wouldn't care even if they had.

A pale blue light flickered to life and illuminated the dark figure staring despondently into the shuttered storefront, the protective mass effect barrier effectively destroying the the one ray of light this evening. Just as everything else so far, it was now unattainable. It never used to be this hard. Trouble - both the good and the bad kinds - used to be a simple fact of life, always waiting around every corner to keep things entertaining if nothing else. Tonight was nothing like the good old days. The fact that it was well into the night cycle and there was yet a single drop of alcohol to be had – or fun of any sort for that matter - was proof positive. And now the liquor store wasn't even an option since the owner was a giant pansy and rolled up shop as soon as someone a little intimidating walked by. It was amazing they were even still in business with that kind of policy since this was one of the sketchier neighborhoods in the ward. The few people peeking through busted-out doorways and partially boarded windows were scarier than most opposing forces met on the battlefield.

The cloaked head fell forward into the mass effect barrier, then pounded against it a few more times for good measure. Frustration didn't cause rational thought, just knee-jerk reactions.

A small shadow scuttled about within the confines of the store, daring to come close enough to the glass as to be almost visible. A soft click broke the silence, followed by the unmistakable wheeze of a volus. "Move along. I'm not looking for trouble."

"I just want a drink." None of the distractions so far lasted longer than a few minutes and she was desperate. The darkness nestled deep within her chest stirred, growing stronger by the minute. All the self-doubt, fears, and anxiety of what she was and what she may never be were near-deafening, threatening to consume her entirely. The only solution at this point was to drown them. The dark figure held a significant sum aloft and waved it in front of the shuttered storefront. This had to work.  "Please."

The volus stared into the depths of the night, wary of making a deal with the imposing figure but unable to simply walk away from such a sum. "Fine," he rasped, "you pay though that small window and then I'll get you want you want."

"No funny business." The warning tone said it all. There were no intentions beyond this simple transaction, but if the shopkeeper took off with the money and didn't return with the booze things were going to get ugly. Even this level of security wouldn't protect them. "Canadian whiskey if you have it. If not, get as close as possible."

The volus disappeared from view and didn't return. It figured. Everything about the evening so far was frustrating and disappointing, much as the events that led up to it. If things went like they were supposed to then everything would've been a dull blur with flashes of questionable, yet blush-inducing memories by now. Well, that, or very bloody. Alas, the street thugs all but disappeared (not that they were any real help) and the fabled bar remained elusive.  The Citadel always possessed a labyrinthine quality, but it was almost impossible to navigate now, thanks in large part to the scars of Saren's attack – Sovereign's attack – peppering the wards. The keepers had no rhyme or reason behind their repairs so large walkways ended abruptly against solid walls, stairwells emptied into dark, desolate alleyways, and once vibrant neighborhoods were husks of their former glory, practically abandoned by all but the toughest and lowest inhabitants… this one, for instance. It was more proof of the time that passed, that life went on after hers stopped. That she didn't belong anywhere anymore.

"Sorry about the wait," the volus called out as two dusty bottles slid through the small window. "We don't get your kind around here often. These were buried in the back." The rotund shopkeeper awkwardly lingered next to the small window, unsure what to do or say, so the dark figure made it easy for both of them. Tucking the full bottles under one arm, the figure disappeared into the shadows of the night. Only the soft crack of the first bottle opening somewhere in the distance was proof she'd been there at all.

The amber fluid was smooth and went down easily enough. It would certainly suffice until something better came along. The figure took another hearty swig then pushed forward through the battered ward. Everything was eerily quiet, but that really didn't matter. She wasn't afraid. Besides, she had a clear goal in mind. The lonely wanderings since the run-in with Alley-Asshole McBrokenPenis had been completely devoid of anything digestible. Food was what mattered now. There had to be something around here, since even the scum of the earth had to eat. At least the alcohol was starting to work. At least the doubts were quiet for now. A comfortable numbness swept through her limbs as she followed the twisting path into the claustrophobic darkness. One unexpected turn later and the road opened up into a well-lit oasis with a wonderful sight waiting within. Food.

The restaurant was little more than a food shack and if a health inspector had ever visited the joint they probably died from shock, but it would do. Biotic metabolism was the clear boss and good taste was a very distant second… or third. Who knew? The alcohol didn't know, because it wasn't important. The fat cook wiped one hand along his grease-stained apron before taking the large order, not bothering to hide the suspicious glances. He was more than happy to take the payment, but made it quite clear that all the tables except the dark one farthest from the shop were mysteriously reserved. It was just as well. The farther from the shop, the less likelihood he'd want to strike up idle chitchat. Besides, at this point the grease-slinger could demand just about anything and he'd get it so long as the food was edible. And so the darkness surrounded the dark figure once more, but at least there was food and drink this time.The ramen was passable, but not great. It was nothing compared to the noodle places from before…

Dull eyes focused on the dark stain of other people's blood under and around her short fingernails as memories of a happier time sprung forth unbidden – thoughts of laughter, lust, and tables straining under the weight of too much food. All things that disappeared with her two years ago. Those were no longer real in this new life. Now there was soggy ramen in a dark corner and feeling like the simple act of living was wrong. Heavy boots approached from behind a she continued to bemoan her existence.

The cook slammed down the gate to the kitchen and activated the mass effect security gate, leaving his lone customer to their own devices without a second thought. It'd be nice if someone offered assistance just once. Instead, a soft crack echoed through the tense hush as the pale hand opened the second bottle of whiskey. Drinking was as good a way to pass the time as any. Familiar red armor emblazoned with a white skull said everything that needed to be known. It wouldn't take long for even their limited thought processes to notice the single figure amongst the empty tables, especially since they weren't getting anywhere with the cook. This was going to be fun.

"What do we have here?" a krogan called out as he approached. "We like to have fun with your kind, don't we?" A second krogan and two vorcha followed in his wake, laughing like he told one of the funniest jokes they'd heard.

The lone patron ignored the newcomers and focused on the table's contents. The food was good enough to merit some additional attention, especially since those calories were probably going to be needed soon. It'd be a shame to waste the whiskey, too, and it was impolite to speak with a full mouth. Besides, there was no need to respond.

"Hey, look at me when I speak to you, monkey."

A loud belch echoed through the open seating and the dark figure wiped stray spittle away with one arm. So much for manners, not that present company would appreciate them anyway. "I am looking at you, lizard." The slur was probably lost on him, but that wasn't the point. There was something concerning about their presence, though. "I thought Blood Pack was barred from the Citadel."

"Only if we get caught and aren't well enough connected. Don't worry, though. We're not in any danger," the first krogan spoke with chilling self-assurance. "Take off that hood so we can see the fear in your eyes." The second krogan bounced on his stumpy legs, a little too excited at the prospect, while the vorcha continued to laugh like idiots.

"I'll keep it on, thanks, but rest assured – there is no fear."

"You'll hate to disappoint me…" the first krogan warned.

"Why? You look like you're used to disappointment," the dark figure taunted, "I doubt your stubby arms can reach the good bits and number two here looks like he's not much fun in the sack. Let me guess: quick to explode, no stamina…"

"Let's see how tough you are," number two bellowed, close enough to show his last three meals lodged in between beige teeth. He reached forward to push the hood back, but never got a chance. The figure's head shot out and connected with his, knocking him back on his ass, then the hood was firmly back in place as if nothing happened. One of the vorcha laughed again, which only pushed number two further. A single shot rang out and the vorcha collapsed. Number two was done playing around. This was the time to act.

The whiskey bottle shattered, sending shards of glass sliding across the table. The next second number two blinked dumbly with his one good eye, unable to comprehend the spreading darkness in his vision. He couldn't see the empty half-bottle protruding from his other eye. It wouldn't matter, anyway. One well-placed punch and it was all over for him. The first krogan roared and charged, but it didn't do him much good. The dark figure searched for a real fight all night, and unlike him, had no reason to hold back. Death was not a concern; neither was personal safety, so biotics were pushed to an extreme with just a little liquid encouragement. Within moments his shattered body fell to the floor in a glowing mass.

"You," the figure called out to the lone survivor. The vorcha held up both hands and waited. "I have a proposition for you. You take me to Tartarus and I'll let you live. Or you can join your buddies here…"

"Why go there? Other bars, better bars…"

"My reasons aren't your concern. The choice is yours, but it should be as obvious to you as your shit-encrusted teeth."

"Show me your face. No answer before."

Shepard sighed and pulled back her hood, welcoming the faint breeze across her exposed features. The side of her face stung and something tickled along her cheek so she wiped it away with the back of one hand as she waited for the vorcha to choose his fate. Clear, sticky fluid glistened on her hand. Confused, she checked her reflection in the metal table. The fragile skin around her eye busted open with the head-butt and the exposed cybernetics underneath glowed even brighter than before. The hood wouldn't help now. Shepard slipped the cloak off and tossed it over a chair on the far side of the seating area. It had served its purpose, but the time to hide had passed. It was time to embrace everything that came with this new Shepard – scars and all.

"Yes, scary," the vorcha nodded, "I take you."

That was the best news of the night. Things were about to get much more intense, and that was perfect. Shepard nodded and gestured for the lone Blood Pack survivor to lead the way. The cook lingered on his side of the security system, his eyes wide with fear as Shepard and the vorcha passed.

"What are you?" he whispered.

"I don't know."


	6. Chapter 6

Life surged through this area of the Citadel but the constant movement was nothing more than a blur to Garrus. The pressing masses outside the hospital were just white noise in the background, easily tuned out as his thoughts moved faster than logic could follow. What they'd just left had been troubling. The man didn't appear to be in too bad shape aside from minor swelling and bruising, but the injury hidden within the depths of the thin blanket made his stomach turn. It was a clear sign of just how desperate the situation was. Every human male recoiled in horror when the injury was even mentioned and two separate men ran out of the room to be sick after they saw it so it must've been bad. But the fact that the trail was cold again was worse. There was nothing more to do now than report back and wait.

"What'd you find out?" Joker asked earnestly the second the call connected and he leaned close to the screen, desperation etched across his waxen features in the Normandy's dim lights. The stress was really doing a number on the pilot, but that was to be expected considering the events of the evening. His best friend was broken and lost on the Citadel, after all, and there was nothing he could do about it. The choice to leave him all alone on the ship was difficult, but it was the only real option. He'd only slow them down and remaining in Anderson's office wasn't an option; the anger simmering between the two of them threatened to turn volatile at any moment and nobody was there to intervene on Joker's behalf should things turn physical. The fact that that was even a possibility spoke volumes of the stress the situation had caused, as well as how sharp Joker's tongue was on the issue. It was only a matter of time until Anderson cracked. That wasn't acceptable, so Joker held down the Normandy with only the AI and his fear to keep him company. 

"We're not sure…"

"What do you mean 'we're not sure'?" the man to the left interrupted with disgusted huff. "I'm pretty damn sure. Just how many other biotic human women with glowing orange scars do you think are out there?"

"As I was saying," Garrus glared pointedly, "we're not sure exactly what happened, but it was Shepard. The trail's cold, though, so we're on our way back to Anderson's office. I'll let you know when we have more." The call disconnected with a soft click just as Joker's face fell. He had to hang up immediately. It was too much to watch.

"The victim was pretty clear about what happened."

"Really, Alenko? You saw that man's rap sheet. Do you really believe Shepard laid in wait in an unfamiliar dark alley, beat him senseless, robbed him, and then attempted to _rape_ him?"

"Maybe your hero worship has you too blind to see how much Cerberus twisted her. The old Shepard never would've done that."

Garrus's steps faltered with shock. How dare he... Talons shot forward lightening fast and yanked the Alliance soldier back until they stood glaring at one another in the middle of the path, neither one concerned in the slightest that they were blocking traffic. The crowds flowed around them like the river around large stones, giving the two men a wide berth while still pressing onward. The fact that both were heavily armed probably had a lot to do with that. Garrus ignored the crowds and focused on the man in front of him, his blue eyes narrow on those once-familiar features. "Why'd you come with me?" The question lingered between them. It was simple and straightforward, but there was more to this than that one question. "You took one look and saw only what you wanted to. So why are you here? You used to be sensible, almost to a fault. Now..." There was a long pause as Garrus struggled to keep his temper under control. This would've been so much easier alone so every move and every single word wasn't scrutinized and criticized.

The comfortable camaraderie from years ago was gone. Things between them strained significantly with Shepard's death, but it was as good as broken now. Anyone who could hurt her like that and then simply walk away was not worthy of being called 'friend' and definitely not worthy of helping now. He didn't have a choice with this hospital visit since Anderson pulled strings to gain access to the injured man and made Alenko's presence a condition of the access. There was no promise of playing nice, though. It was time for the marine to hear some hard truths.

"While you saw the Cerberus monster's innocent victim I was busy figuring out how to kill the man who tried to rape my friend. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that she spared him and it was her choice to make, not mine."

Alenko's face tightened as he stared.

"What, that didn't occur to you until right now?" Garrus asked in disbelief, but the answer was clear. Small wisps of biotic energy rose from Alenko's skin as he glared openly in the direction they just left. If that man wasn't gone soon there was a very real chance he'd never get to leave. "There's always been a very real woman behind the legend and that hasn't changed. Her shadow looms large simply because she knows where to stand."

The shrill beep from his wrist ended the not-so-subtle reminder. Garrus scanned the urgent message, his mandibles tight against his face. At least it was something to work with. His talons skittered over the 'tool while he closed the message and opened another window. Moments later Joker popped back into view. "Joker, send everyone to this nav point. C-Sec got the call just a few minutes ago." He shut it all down the second Joker nodded, then turned to Alenko. "Look, you go tell Anderson whatever you want. He can have my take on it if he's interested, but he'll have to wait."

"I'm not going to Anderson. I'm coming with you," Alenko insisted, his jaw set. He could be a stubborn man if he wanted, and it was clear he wasn't going to let Garrus shake him off. "Look, I already saw the nav point. Besides, you can't go into that neighborhood alone and the trail will be cold again if you wait for everyone else. We have to go now."

There was no time to argue, especially since the Alliance soldier was right. Both men climbed into a private transit vehicle in silence, but that only lasted until the doors were firmly shut. "I'm not going to let you hurt her again," Garrus warned as his mandibles pulsed steadily. The memory of her falling to her knees as Alenko turned his back and walked away tore straight through his heart even now. She didn't deserve that pain. Not after everything she'd done, everything she'd endured. A fire ignited deep within, a burn to make this man hurt as much as he hurt Shepard. There was nobody around to stop him, either. "Do you know what her first word was when she woke up? It was your name. The Cerberus operative told me that after your little show on Horizon. You were literally her first conscious thought and the Illusive Man wouldn't even tell her if you survived. Anderson wasn't much better; he only said you were on assignment and she couldn't be trusted with that info, but she held out hope. You were her constant in the chaos."

Alenko said nothing. Eyes straight ahead, only bulge of his jaw muscles as he clenched his teeth indicated he heard a word. That wasn't good enough. There was still so much more. The knife needed to be twisted.

"On Horizon, did you really see Shepard; notice the blood flowing freely from her nose?" A small twitch and a sideways glance was the only acknowledgement Alenko gave, but it was enough. "It wasn't from getting hit; nothing got close enough to touch her - it was overuse of her biotics. She practically killed herself on that damn planet because she knew you were there. She was willing to die to ensure you lived. When that ship took off and you were nowhere to be seen… And then you casually strolled around the corner and said the things that you knew would hurt her the most."

"What was I supposed to do? She disappeared for two years, and then suddenly showed up working for the enemy!"

"Shepard died, Kaidan. She didn't want to, it just happened. That sort of thing was always a possibility, especially in our line of work, and you both knew that going in. She never hurt you on purpose; she isn't capable. And now she's back through a miracle of modern technology and you chastise her for allowing it to happen. She tried to get away from Cerberus but the Alliance wouldn't have her back. They refused to let her help in any way. What choice does she have? She may be hurt, but she's still Shepard. You just don't want to see that. You're so damn concerned about your own pain. Stop and think about what she feels."

Alenko's jaw clenched into a tight knot as he sat in silence, processing what was said. The atmosphere outside the vehicle mirrored the tension inside as it grew progressively darker, almost claustrophobic. They had to be getting close. There was one more thing to say before they arrived, though.

"This universe is full of people willing to give everything they have just for a chance with Shepard, people who would spend every waking moment trying to make her happy just to see her smile. She's loved by more people than she'll ever know and if you're not careful one of them will take your place. And it just might be someone you already know. If that happens, I hope it hurts you every bit as much as you've hurt her."

Alenko's head whipped around as the vehicle slowed and landed. His eyes narrowed on the turian next to him, the person he once considered a friend. "Is that a threat?" he whispered hoarsely.

"No, it's a fact. I'm only telling you all this because I know how much she loves you and I want her to be happy no matter what. It's up to you, now."

Garrus stepped into the dim lighting of the rough neighborhood. This looked like the kind of place Shepard would frequent. She never was afraid of the area if the food was worth it, thought the odor wafting down the street said it probably wasn't. That wasn't entirely fair, though. The smell could also be caused by the several large heaps on the ground next to a table. Bodies that size could only be krogan and they often smelled ripe when alive…

Alenko joined Garrus and looked around. The bodies hadn't even been covered yet which meant they beat C-Sec to the scene. With luck, they could get everything they needed and be gone without dealing with authorities, but that meant they had to get moving. No better place to start than the scene of the crime.

Garrus went straight for the bodies, but Alenko veered off towards the dark mass on a chair several tables away. It was the only other disturbance amongst the otherwise pristine café seating, so it had to be important. It was a coat – a long black coat with an oversized hood and formed bodice. The material was still warm with the unmistakable scent of Shepard. There was something mysterious and sexy as hell about it. Folding the sturdy material with loving gentleness, Alenko tucked it under his arm as he made his way over to Garrus.

"One person managed all of this?" Alenko asked as soon as he saw the bodies. One krogan had a whiskey bottle shoved almost completely through his skull while the other had no outward sign of trauma but his limbs twisted at odd angles and his head face the wrong way. This was definitely Shepard's work.

"The krogan killed the vorcha," an unfamiliar voice called out from behind the security gates, "but I think the others were by the woman. It was too fast to tell for sure, though."

"The woman who wore this coat?" Alenko asked as he held the garment aloft. "What happened to her? Where'd she go?"

"She left with the vorcha, on their way to Tartarus."

"Then that's where we're going."

"I don't think you should be there for this, Alenko. She's in a bad spot and you're part of the problem," Garrus held the human back with one strong hand, but Alenko pushed it aside with ease.

"I'm also the solution. Just try to stop me."


	7. Chapter 7

Low, pulsing music with a driving beat shook the single battered old radio until it was in danger of plummeting off the back shelf. Chances were good it wouldn't acquire too much damage if it fell since the dented and cracked dull metal shell had clearly seen more than its fair share of brute force. The fact that it even worked at all was amazing. It looked older than the asari bartender glowering over the crowd as she cleaned glasses with a dirty rag. She had to be a matron, at least, but her severe case of 'resting bitch face' made it difficult to tell for sure. Maybe the radio kept working because it was simply afraid to let the bartender down. The dirty-sounding tunes were necessary to keep things running smooth. They provided just enough ambient noise to drown out the hushed voices from the small groups of people huddled together around stained, battered tables. Tartarus was a neutral zone – a place the scum of the Citadel were not only welcomed, but preferred. A place nefarious business could be handled without issue. Distinct color combinations of the well-armored patrons were a dead-giveaway to anyone with even rudimentary knowledge; almost every major mercenary group was present in the bar, and the perceived privacy was the only thing keeping the peace aside from professional courtesy, and that only counted until your back was turned.

Chances were good there wasn't a single innocent person within the establishment. Perfect. 

Despite being pissed and probably scared shitless, the pickpocket really delivered with the bar recommendation. Or maybe it was because of those conditions – some sort of vendetta that fell short by playing directly into her hands. Either way, Tartarus was exactly what she was looking for.

Shepard leaned into the sticky bar and stared at the drink in her hands. She tried to keep her focus locked on the off-color fluid in the glass, but failed. Her eyes drifted to the hands holding the drink. Blood, other people's blood, darkened her fingernails and told the true story of the night thus far. She'd left a trail of pain and death through the Citadel. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was a monster. Or maybe her place in the universe disappeared when she died and her presence now was a huge mistake. Maybe the chaos, pain and death that followed in her wake were a result of the universe trying to fix the mistake of her return. It didn't matter in the long run; the mission to stop the Collectors was suicide run and she knew it. Might as well have some fun and take out some assholes while she still had time.

"Are you sure you belong here?" the human waitress asked hesitantly as she collected the small mountain of glassware next to Shepard's elbow. The gaunt, ashen brunette had the distinct glassy eyes and discolored teeth of an addict – red sand from the looks of it. Was she a result of the pick-pocket's handiwork? Maybe dancing was too much once full addiction hit so they sent her down the totem pole. If that was the case, then she was probably on the last rung before death. It was hard to imagine a place worse than this.

Shepard stared dispassionately, never breaking eye contact as she slammed back the muddy fluid and set the glass on the already full tray. Eventually the waitress got the drift and turned away. Disgust swirled in Shepard's gut as she watched the downtrodden woman disappear behind the bar, and it wasn't just from the rancid drink. That prick pickpocket deserved so much more than a few broken bones, but he was a small fish. Now she was in the mother of all aquariums and she was going to do what she did best - kill all the fish. She was an expert in that area by now. Nearly empty waters in her cabin on the Normandy was proof.

The door opened and all eyes turned to stare down the new arrival, just as they did every time. Shepard glanced over long enough to see a lumbering krogan warlord in angry red armor stare back, his scarred face twisted in fury. "Alright, which one of you pyjacks did it; who killed my crew?" The deep bass voice reverberated through the bar without response. "I know it was one of you, so don't try to hide it. I heard the fat human say their attacker came here," he bellowed as he stomped into room.

Showtime.

"I did." Shepard responded casually without bothering to turn around. The surprised stares burned hot on her back, but she ignored them as she gestured for another drink. A few disbelieving laughs echoed through the silence but died away almost instantly. Anyone crazy enough to keep their back to a rampaging krogan after claiming responsibility was someone too crazy to be laughed at… or more dangerous than anyone anticipated. This was especially true when the person was a barely dressed human female. The bartender eyed Shepard, really looking at her for the first time as she set a fresh glass down on the bar. Whatever she saw was enough to make her retreat to the other side of the room. That was perfect, though. It was all part of the plan - what little of one there was, that is.

The krogan stomped over. Each thundering step sent the alcohol sloshing a little farther up the side of the glass so Shepard picked it up and drank slowly. She was never one to waste alcohol, even low-grade swill like this. The footfalls stopped next to her, but she didn't react. As far as everyone could tell she simply sat and enjoyed her piss-water, but she was acutely aware of the imposing figure's every move. She just didn't show it until the barstool flew out from under her with one swift kick of the tree-trunk leg. Shepard was prepared. Her feet hit the ground and she turned to face the Blood Pack leader with practiced boredom.

"Did you need something?" she asked with disinterest.

"You killed three of my men. What do you think I want?"

"Two, actually," she corrected. "The vorcha was an inside job, but I was totally willing to do the deed myself. Your guy just beat me to it."

"Then you owe me two lives," the krogan sneered as he pulled a knife free. "I'm sure I could get my money's worth out of you one way or another."

"Is that so?" she asked casually. Nauseated panic crept through her stomach at the way the krogan's eyes leered at her figure, but she never showed it. While krogan-human relationships were almost unheard of, this was most definitely not romantic. Besides, who could really blame him? Krogans dug scars. The idea of a second rape attempt that night was not a fun one, though, especially with so many others watching a little too closely. Chances were good it would turn into a group activity once it started, and that just wasn't going to work for her. This train had to be derailed immediately.

A hard right hook caught the krogan under his eye, sending him stumbling back a few steps to catch his balance. That was all it took. His shit-brown eyes burned with murderous thoughts as he rushed forward and pressed the knife into the bare skin of Shepard's upper chest, the blade dimpling the exposed flesh just below her left shoulder.

"Ready to die, puny human?"

Shepard's right arm shot out and caught the front of the krogan's armor, the movement little more than a blur, then yanked him close. "I already have, thanks," she murmured into his ear as their bodies pressed together against the bar and the knife plunged into her body. "Now it's your turn."

Shepard's scream filled the bar, the sound too disorienting and the movements too fast to follow. The next thing everyone knew the krogan laid lifeless on the floor, pinned in place by the knife protruding from his head. Shepard stood over him, her eyes glittering dangerously as bright red blood ran freely from the gaping wound and spilled to the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

The question hung in the air despite the ancient radio's feeble attempts to drown it out; the weak, tinny sound was no match for the passionate vibrato. Bright, defiant eyes searched the crowd, daring the foul horde to respond, but there was only silence. Even the soft clinks of glassware and gentle groans of abused furniture disappeared as the scum of the Citadel froze. All eyes focused intently on the fierce figure in the center of the room.

Crimson blood flowed freely, every dark splash on the weathered floorboards a testament. She was human. She was alive. She was dangerous. Nothing anyone said could change that. She was…

A gasp from the dark recesses of the tavern shattered the pregnant hush. "Holy shit, that's…"

"Commander Shepard, in the flesh." The simple declaration tasted sweeter than any drink credits could buy. Pulsing orange scars pulled and gaped as one side of her mouth twisted into a lopsided, predatory grin. Those savory words lingered on her tongue and the flavor was perfect. Everything was clear once more. That was exactly who she was and nobody could take that away – not the Alliance, not the Council, not Cerberus… nobody.

"I'll ask again now that the introductions are out of the way," she called out strong and sure. "Who's next?"


	9. Chapter 9

Fantasies, nightmares, desperate machinations of a broken mind; it was impossible to put a name to the images that sprung forth in his dreams two years ago. They neither judged nor soothed, but simply reminded. They were salt in the open wound at first, the agonizing pain searing into the darkest depths of his soul until it was excruciating. The mere thought of sleeping became unbearable, but some things cannot be avoided forever. So they waited for his body to succumb to the inevitable.  The only physical proof of the previous night's visit were the tear-soaked pillows that greeted every morning, as cold and uncomfortable as the feelings of loss inside.

As with all things, time worked her magic. Eventually the wound healed until it was impervious to the salt, the ugly scar in its place blissfully incapable of feeling any sensations including pain. Dread disappeared as the images became a source of eagerly anticipated comfort. Time wore away the memory of her features until they were impossible to recall in the light of day, but those dreams embraced him nightly like an old lover. They were all that was left. Sleep became a hobby - almost an obsession. Everything else was an afterthought - friends, food, entertainment, _everything_  - because nothing ignited the faintest sparkle of hope or joy like those silent, bittersweet images. 

Then the unthinkable happened – nights began to pass in long stretches of empty darkness. It hurt almost as much as the original pain.

They'd always been the same: Shepard's beautiful face peered out from an almost painfully bright light, her features composed but her eyes glittering passionately. It was always just her face. The light fully enveloped her body leaving only her haunting visage. Sometimes she smiled and it was the familiar soft, gentle turn of her full lips that only appeared when she was completely relaxed and happy. It was as rare as it had been in life, and it broke his heart anew every time. Sometimes her lips moved desperately to convey a message, but the words were lost. Those nights were the hardest. None of them prepared him for this, though.

The door to the bar slid open to reveal the haunting images come to life. The light surrounding Shepard was so bright in the dimness, so intense after the dark wards, that only her features were visible.

She was breathtaking.

It was all too familiar, too haunting and painful. His knees buckled as his stomach clenched. Hands shot out in desperation to find a purchase and the doorframe groaned under the intense pressure as he held on for dear life, desperate to remain upright despite the protestation of his legs.

"Alenko?" Garrus called out from somewhere in the darkness, his tone making it clear he expected the worst based on this reaction.

Kaidan shook his head slowly, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before him, lest it disappear. There was no time to explain. It wouldn't matter anyway; he wouldn't understand.

The image morphed slowly as his eyes became accustomed to the light - the ethereal glow from his dreams dissolved until he could see the familiar outline of her toned frame engulfed by a brilliant blue aura. Her biotics illuminated everything with a power she'd never managed in the past, the light nearly blinding after the darkness. Scars replaced the porcelain-smooth skin that haunted him for the past two years; the marred portions of flesh on her face larger and more open than he remembered from Horizon. The bright orange within pulsed with each beat of her heart and clear fluid ran down her cheek from the gaping wound. Softer, more delicate scars branched off from the large open ones and twined down her figure. His eyes traced the scars as they fanned out in every direction across her body, only interrupted by the thick straps of dark material covering the bare necessities of her more generous physique. He didn't need to see them to know with certainty they remained unbroken underneath, and his heart seized in his chest with that realization. She looked like a broken eggshell glued back together.

Darkness, almost indiscernible from that of the fabric, glistened along her left side reflecting the glow of her biotics. Something was wrong. Only by tracing it back to the source did he know how wrong. A gaping wound peeked out from the edge of one strap, almost completely hidden. Dark fluid poured forth with every throb of her scars, every beat of her heart. The wound was deep and she was in trouble. Her bright eyes were locked on a far corner of the room, her lips pulled into a frightening sneer. She didn't even realize he was there yet. She was so focused on that point nothing else existed… even her wounds.

Fear clutched his heart - fear for the woman standing so tall her very aura filled the room. She'd been through so much... He'd inadvertently caused her so much pain... A soft, choked sob escaped his throat before he could rein it back.

Shepard's gaze jerked to the open door and the man filling the frame. Their eyes locked and reality washed away in an instant. Only her face was visible in the brightness once more, just as it'd been on all those countless nights when he wished for the universe to swallow him, too. Her features softened and emotions danced across her face too fast to name, but it was enough. He knew it with every fabric of his being. It was Shepard. His heart swelled to near bursting with that small, yet earth-shattering revelation. His vision blurred as tears pooled along his lower lashes, and in that moment her features shifted once more. The careful, neutral mask of Commander Shepard slid firmly into place locking everything behind it with ruthless efficiency. Her eyes flicked over to the corner.

Power engulfed him and the telltale blue fire burned along every nerve ending, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. The attack was ruthless. It felt as if his guts were being torn out through his armor and then he was airborne, spinning ass over end towards the wall, too fast to brace for impact.

Everything went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

Garrus divided his attention between the still figure next to him and the chaos on the other side of the room. It was a difficult task since they were about as far apart as two things could be, so he watched the scuffle carefully, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice if needed, but listened for any changes from the person he was protecting. If he hadn't been straining his senses he may have missed it. A low moan, barely audible over the distant sounds of shattering glass, drew his attention to the floor. The human's eyes fluttered open and then both his arms shot up to cradle his head. Garrus relaxed slightly as the marine rolled on to his side. At least he was moving. That was a good sign since the impact looked scary as hell. Human anatomy was complicated and still a bit of a mystery to him, compounded by the fact that Shepard was the most familiar human and she seemed to shake off almost everything, but countless missions with her made it clear that the human neck was a weak point. That was the main area she targeted in close combat. A quick twist and a snap stopped almost all movement from her foes. The fact that a very similar sound came from Alenko as he hit the wall and then went limp made the past few minutes tense and scary, and that was without the biotic brawl taking place on the opposite side of the bar.

"Welcome back." The greeting was low, but warm. It was honestly a relief to see him alert.

The marine sat upright with a little assistance, though it clearly caused him pain. He hissed and scrunched his eyes closed as one hand scrambled along his 'tool; a sigh of relief signaled the exact moment he found the right button. Leaning back with eyes closed, he remained silent while the pain meds did their thing. Garrus scrutinized every movement. A rudimentary scan didn't show any major damage, but an impact like that could cause any number of injuries so it was necessary to keep a close eye. Alenko's movements were a bit stiff and he winced with every loud noise, but the intensity of the reactions lessened as the meds coursed through him. Everything else appeared to be functioning properly. He was damn lucky... they all were. While he was stubborn and put too much trust in the Alliance, Kaidan was a good guy underneath it all. Besides, the thought of what Shepard would do if something actually happened to him…

Panic shot through Garrus at the mere thought of her name. He realized his attention had shifted away from her completely, but a quick glance over the side of the makeshift barrier was all the assurance needed. Shepard's brilliant corona of biotics surrounded her, protecting her exposed body from all the attacks the team of asari in ugly yellow Eclipse armor could dish out - even with the rough-looking matron leading the assault. At least the troopers were out of the picture. Their bodies lay crumpled on the floor beside their brethren, their guns forgotten, so it was just the biotics left to fight it out. The familiar glower on Shepard's face was enough to make trained soldiers quake so she was in as good a position as possible at the moment. There was time to tend to Kaidan before coming to her aid.

"I... I can't believe she attacked me," Alenko's voice quaked with emotion. A deep frown creased his brow as he gingerly shook his head in disbelief.

"Can you honestly blame her after all you said and did?"

"No… I can't." The dejection and pain in his voice were almost too much. "I deserved it... and so much more." Bright flashes blue-colored light illuminated his distraught features. He meant every word he said.

Of all the possible responses, that was the one Garrus most dreaded and yet the one Shepard most deserved. That only left one option: the truth. He took a deep breath to steel himself for what he was about to do.  "She didn't attack you," Garrus admitted, knowing full well what it may cost him. "You interrupted a stand-off and an asari attacked you. The reave would've killed you in no time if Shepard hadn't thrown you free."

The men stared at one another in the dark corner as the truth hung above them. Kaidan blinked several times as the words sunk in. "She saved me?" he whispered in shock, but the question was drowned out by a familiar grunt of exertion followed by an unfamiliar shriek of pain. There was no taunting, no sarcastic quips, or mutterings of annoyance; that wasn't like Shepard. Concerned, both men peeked around the overturned table. Shepard hadn't moved from her post near the rear wall, but something was different. Though she stood tall, there were multiple signs of fatigue including the dangerous flickering of her barrier. "What the hell is she doing? She's hurt."

"She's what?" Garrus cried out in shock. Alenko would've been on his own if that little tidbit was made clear earlier. He steadied himself with one hand as he pulled his sniper rifle free. Actually using the weapon in this situation was dangerous since there was no telling where a bullet would ricochet off a biotic barrier, but the scope was invaluable to get a closer look. Sure enough, the telltale dark stain of blood down her side was instantly recognizable.

"No guns!" Shepard barked as she threw a biotic warning shot over their head. Both men slid down to avoid getting hit. That woman could be so damn frustrating at times. Acting like that was only going to get herself killed. Again.

"Why isn't she finding cover?" Alenko asked in frustration. It was probably a rhetorical question, but Garrus had the answer. "She's shielding someone. I didn't get a clear look, but I'm pretty sure it was a human woman." That was the final straw. That little tidbit sent all the signs jumbling together and Alenko's eyes widened as it all finally clicked into place. "She's the same person she always was, isn't she? Cerberus didn't change her at all and she was telling me the truth about everything."

"Yeah," Garrus whispered, his strength suddenly depleted. Kaidan launched over the barricade without a second glance as Garrus crumbled against the wall and stared at the beaten old table in front of him.

"You're letting her slip through your fingers – or talons, as the case may be."

"Kasumi, how long have you been there?" Garrus asked without looking up.

"Long enough to know you drive almost as well as Shep, and that's saying something," she teased gently as she slid down next to the turian. "So you're not going to fight?"

"Shepard said no guns…"

"Now you're just being obstinate," Kasumi interrupted. "You know what I meant. I've seen the way you look at her and I heard what you said to Mr. Alliance earlier. Why are you giving up?"

"I just want her to be happy." Garrus shrugged. It was one of the small mannerisms he picked up from Shepard, and he wore it well. "I'm not giving up, though – just stepping back. They have to figure this out. I'll be waiting once they do."

"That is romantic," Kasumi sighed as she playfully bumped her shoulder against his, "a lot of people want to see you two together, you know. But you didn't hear that from me. Now let's make sure she lives long enough to be put in an awkward position of choosing between you two." A wicked smile flashed from under her hood as she pulled the turian to standing and then pushed him forward.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The oppressive scent of death hung heavy in the air, completely overpowering the dive bar's unique odor. That in itself was noteworthy because this particular bar reeked. Smoke embedded in porous surfaces kept the room perpetually foggy and dank, mysterious sticky spots on the tables and chairs clung to even the faintest touch and refused to relinquish hold until everything stank of stale bodily fluids, and a mixture of alcohols so nasty the fumes alone could strip paint stung the eyes; yet, as with life itself, death conquered all. It was no surprise given the number of bodies littering the floor, their blood pooling together into thick, brackish puddles. Soldiers learned to breathe around it early in their careers or else find a new line of work, but the putrid odor in this room was proving too much for even this soldier; it wasn't the body fluids, smoke, booze, or even death that did it.

The dying shriek echoed through her mind as Shepard tore her gaze from the fallen asari. The scene was bad enough, but the smell… Her mouth watered in warning; a hard swallow at the last minute barely kept the bile down. Disemboweling was a horrible way to go and the results weren't pleasant for anyone in the vicinity, either. The odor was so heavy it coated the tongue, and that was one thing nobody wanted to taste. Especially since the dead Eclipse biotic's last meal was apparently gangrenous road kill curry, heavy on the burnt hair. At least there was a bright side. An overturned stool, a well-timed pull, and a healthy dose of pure luck finally made it an even fight... and not a moment too soon. The uneven match-up took its toll despite years of training and all the Cerberus upgrades. Pale blue flickered across Shepard's exposed flesh as she stared down the asari bartender through blurry eyes. Even distorted as she was, bartender looked like a raging bitch. This wasn't going to be easy. The matron earned her position in this shit-heap of a bar by being mean, scary, and able to back it up. At least it was just a one-on-one situation now. Hopefully this would be over soon since the world grayed around the edges as the stand-off continued. Shepard gritted her teeth and redoubled her efforts, but the tank was on E and the remnants of her barrier held on through sheer stubbornness alone. It was time to shit or get off the pot.

The room dimmed as the feeble barrier finally died. She needed every bit of power available for this attack. It was going to be the last one no matter what; there was simply nothing left. A soft grunt tore from Shepard's lips. She threw everything she had into the warp and hoped for the best. The risky move was almost too much; the exertion taxed her to capacity. Her eyes fluttered closed just to preserve enough energy to remain upright.

A bright flash, visible even through her closed eyelids, lit up the room. A near-deafening explosion followed a fraction of a second later. Warps don't explode... Her body jerked around before she could even process what happened. A softer light enveloped her and familiar hum filled her mind as solid armor pressed into her back and strong arms held her. The human shield protected her exposed body, and not a moment too soon. The shockwave from the explosion knocked them both to their knees as shrapnel in the form of glass and metal flew through the air, embedding deep into the surfaces around them. The debris rained down around their forms, but they were safe.

Hot breath, calm and even on her neck, stirred something deep within. The embrace was so familiar, so warm; it instantly brought back old memories. Kaidan held her close and she instinctively snuggled in, committing to memory this fleeting moment and the warmth it created, tucking it away to ease the long lonely nights ahead on the Normandy. The embrace lingered on long after the room fell silent. It wasn't until the soft crunch of footsteps on broken glass shattered the fresh quiet that she came to her senses. Their last embrace ended with a shattered heart so this one had to end before something worse happened. She tried to stand, tried to pull away, but there was simply no strength left. Kaidan understood. He stood in one fluid motion and pulled her with, but made it look like she was in full control. That simple little action set something off inside her. He knew her, knew what she wanted without having to ask, knew her tells, and yet he walked away from her. The pain resurfaced, as fresh as if they were still on Horizon, but it turned to anger instantly.

Shepard spun to face him the moment they were fully upright. Her eyes flashed dangerously as they fell on his familiar face. "What the hell are you doing here? Did you come to see the Cerberus monster in action? If so, congrats; I hope you're happy."

Garrus changed direction mid-stride and made a beeline for the fallen asari to check for signs of life. That was going to be his order anyway and they both knew it. No sense waiting to be told when he could eavesdrop on a much more interesting discussion that was currently underway.

"I came to help…" Kaidan began to explain.

"I don't need saving." Shepard interrupted. "I'm not a damsel in distress, and you sure as hell aren't my white knight."

"What would've happened to you if I wasn't here?" he asked carefully, gesturing to the chaos surrounding them.

"You mean the asari? None of that would've happened if you hadn't shown up. It was just a biotic pissing contest - I was kicking ass, by the way - then you popped in and they saw the…" so many words raced through her mind – relief, excitement, love… "…recognition, and attacked. I almost had them backed down completely before that. So thanks a fucking bunch."

"Joker and Garrus said you were in trouble…"

"I'll deal with them later," Shepard called over her shoulder to the turian on the far side of the room. He simply nodded without looking up; there were going to be repercussions and he knew that going in, but he came anyway. She expected nothing less from him. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she watched her friend work. Alenko didn't deserve an explanation, but Garrus did and he was obviously listening. "I just wanted a night out, away from my reality. I didn't go looking for trouble." The last part was a blatant lie, but she sure as shit wasn't going to admit as much. Shepard turned back to find Kaidan watching her uncomfortably close. She wasn't going to admit that part of the truth, but telling him the rest seemed like the perfect thing to do under the circumstances. "I just wanted to get blackout drunk and get laid, hence the outfit. Or was that not obvious?" she asked as she smoothed the straps across her chest.

Hurt flashed in his eyes as he watched her calmly. Good; she wanted him to feel even a tiny bit of the pain she did. He shook his head slowly. "I don't buy it. You probably passed twenty bars on your way here, all full of better… opportunities." The last word hissed through clenched teeth. He was jealous, though he didn't have any right. He was the one who walked away.

"Bars full of normal people; people who cross the street when they see me coming; people who try to protect the criminals from _me_. This was the one place someone who looks like this could drink in peace because scary is normal here, respected even...”

"That's why you wore the cloak," Kaidan muttered to himself, as if that reason had never crossed his mind.

"Congrats on figuring that one out, Sherlock." Sarcasm practically dripped from every word. "It did precisely dick, though. I'm sure you just followed reports of the scary woman and ended up at my feet, right?" Kaidan wouldn't make eye contact. That was all the answer she needed. It figured. Silence stretched between them with until he finally asked the big question. "But why?"

"I just wanted to feel human again." Shepard's voice was raw and wounded as she yelled in the man's face. The truth wasn't supposed to escape and she wasn't prepared for it. Tears burned her eyes, begging for release, but she blinked them back. The crunch of boots on glass got close and talons softly gripped the soft skin above her elbow, but she shook them off as she stared down her former lover. It was all out there now, she may as well finish. "It wasn't until I was here, three bottles deep and staring at a dead krogan at my feet that I remembered I don't need anyone else. I'm Commander Fucking Shepard. I can make myself feel human."

"I can't believe you just said that," a soft voice giggled. Alenko whipped his head around in confusion and Shepard wobbled on her feet as they stared at the empty space where the person should be. Alcohol made her mind fuzzy and sluggish, so she was unsure what the disembodied voice was implying. The second Kaidan looked away the infiltrator's cloaking dissolved in colorful pixels, her ornery grin the first thing to appear. She made a gesture which would be considered rude and borderline obscene in polite society, so it was a damn good thing this crowd was anything but, and then disappeared before Kaidan turned back around to catch her. It was only then the drunken commander got the joke.

"Yeah, Kasumi," Shepard sighed, her lips quirked up in a tight, self-conscious smile as she looked over the marine's shoulder, "of course that's how you'd take it. I guess making me feel human in my own cabin is cheaper and easier, eh? Take things into my own hands? Lesson learned. Now quit gawking and come help me."

"Oh, you're no fun," Kasumi pouted as she completely materialized directly behind Alenko. "I was just admiring the view. You know how I like my soldiers."

"Get this waitress over to a chair and admire from afar. Just be careful; I heard something snap when she fell and she's too sand blasted to feel it."

 


	12. Chapter 12

… just wanted to feel human…

The world tilted dangerously and it took everything he had not to tumble over with it as the words echoed through his head. Reality continued on without him – little jokes were shared, orders were given, but none of that really registered. A hot flash shot through him as those simple words reverberated throughout his mind. Any lingering doubt, however small, evaporated the instant those pained words were thrown in his face like a weapon, and like usual, Shepard hit her target with expert precision. They meant more than she let on and only he knew it, but there was no way to search her face for the truth. Garrus planted himself firmly between the two, completely blocking her from sight.

"We're closed," Shepard barked suddenly, but Kaidan was too distracted to comprehend why until a new voice responded.

"No shit," a husky female voice responded. "Looks like you had all the fun without me."

There was no danger. Everyone else carried on like this new arrival was familiar, which was a good thing because Kaidan was trapped in his own mind, reeling from the emotional wound. …feel human… There was a hidden message in that particular phrase, and his treacherous mind dragged him back to the origin – back to the dim captain's quarters on the SR-1. His heart pounded in his chest as Shepard's pale fingers pulled across his jaw, the soft scratch of his stubble the only sound in the room. Their eyes were locked and he knew he would happily drown in those emerald pools. Truth was he already had. Shaky hands encircled her slender waist and she quivered under his touch as the universe seemed to hold its breath. Swallowing hard, it took two separate tries to even find his breath but she needed to know what this meant. Before her, he was only a freak – a monster even to others like him. In her arms, though… "You make me feel… human."

Kaidan shook his head hard to clear the memory away. What had once been beautiful and perfect now sent pain radiating from his very core, the ache raw and real. The stench of the bar chased the lingering shadows of that night away, back to harsh reality. Bright blue armor continued to obscure the woman so desperately on his mind but her pale hand popped into view as it patted the turian's shoulder. Dark stains ringed the edges of her fingers, the dried blood proof of the night's struggle.

"Shit, Shepard, I didn't think you had it in you," the husky voice got louder as she approached. How much time passed? It was impossible to tell as the woman continued on, "straps are a little wide for my taste but you pull it off, and your scars look badass. Now we just need to get you some ink…" The words died on her lips as she finally came into view and locked eyes with Alenko. The heavily tattooed bald woman stared, her gaze fierce enough to melt metal. It took a moment, but he was able to place her; she'd been on Horizon and saw everything. Her unreadable gaze flicked over to Shepard and back. After half a beat she effortlessly jumped the bar, grabbed a bottle, and poured two shots. Slamming one back and placing the other on the bar near Shepard, she jerked her head his direction. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Nobody responded – not that he could hear, at least. Garrus briefly looked over his shoulder and shrugged, then walked away. No doubt he had orders to follow through on. There was no other way he'd leave Shepard's side in this state. Sure enough, the cool dual toned voice filled the room as soon as he stepped from view, but the conversation was lost. It wasn't important right now.

Kaidan's breath hitched as she finally came into view. Her lanky frame leaned heavily against the bar, letting the sticky surface support her weight almost completely. She looked beat, like she'd used all the fight left in her. Guilt slammed into him, crushing his spirit as the truth became clear. She felt like he had all those years ago; like she was a freak, a monster in her own mind, and his rejection was all the proof she needed.

"I'm so sorry," Kaidan whispered hoarsely as he stumbled forward and one shaky hand reached out for her, desperate for any contact. "I was such a fool. I didn't even think…"

"No, you didn't," Shepard hissed as she pulled away ever so slightly.

The tiny movement created an odd sucking sound as dark bubbles formed along the black straps of her outfit. His heart dropped. She was even more hurt than he'd realized, but kept it hidden from her crew. The infiltrator maintained a quiet conversation with the barely lucid waitress and Garrus was in the middle of a call, updating Joker on Shepard's status without so much as a word of injury. Only the bald woman watched the commander a little closer than before, and she responded by placing another drink on the bar. That wasn't going to be enough by a long shot.

"Let me help you," he begged quietly as he met her gaze.

"And what if I say no?" Her eyes flashed defiantly. She could be so damn stubborn.

"What do you want me to say, Shepard? That I'll hit you with a stasis, toss you in a chair, and tie you down just to…"

"Kinky," the bald woman interrupted with a depraved grin, "but you'd have to come through us first."

"If it meant…"Kaidan began, but was cut off once again.

"He could try," Garrus called out from the far side of the room.

"I'd find a way through all of you if that's what it took to make sure she was safe," Kaidan replied evenly, loud enough for all to hear. He had everyone's full attention, but his eyes were only for Shepard.

"Step away from the Commander," a new voice demanded.

"Shit, who invited the cheerleader?" The tattooed woman's glossy lips pulled up in disgust. Shepard followed her gaze and sighed. "Relax Miranda; he isn't here to hurt me." Kaidan had just enough time to look over his shoulder before all hell broke loose. Everyone began shouting at once, but the gun pointed directly at Kaidan's head never wavered. Instincts kicked in and Kaidan's barrier sprang to life as the brunette smirked. "Damn it, Miranda, put the gun down," Shepard shouted as the woman behind the bar made a smartass remark that Kaidan couldn't hear, which only managed to get the new arrival even more agitated. "You're not helping, Jack," Shepard barked. "Kaidan, back down. Lawson, I gave you a fucking order!" A glass shattered inches above the hoity brunette's perfectly coifed hair. She sighed dramatically as she blinked away the fine spray of alcohol, but at least the gun finally dropped. That didn't make Kaidan feel any more secure, though. The hum of the combined biotics in the room was near-deafening during the entire ordeal. He was seriously outgunned if things came to blows.

"Damn it, Miranda, you made me waste a perfectly good drink," Shepard groused angrily despite the fact that Jack placed a fresh glass at her elbow. A significantly heavier glass, Kaidan noted. Jack saw the look and a sly smirk spread across her face. There was no love lost between her and the new arrival. Hopefully that would benefit him if things got tense a second time. Best things didn't come to that, though.

"Can we talk in private, please?" Kaidan asked Shepard hesitantly.

"They can hear anything you need to say to me. This is my crew – my family. They're the ones who believe in me, even though some of them can't follow simple fucking directions." Shepard paused long enough to give Miranda a pointed look before turning back to him. "They know who and what I am, yet they still trust me to lead them into hell." The implication sent another pang through his heart. She stared straight into the depths of his soul, her mouth turned down in sad acceptance.

"I deserve that. I deserve all of this," Kaidan said simply. "I'm sorry for Horizon; I handled it all wrong. I spent the last two years thinking you were dead…"

"I was," Shepard replied flatly.

"I have the proof. You can see all the grizzly pictures if you want. I'm sure you'll have wonderful dreams afterward." Miranda taunted with a tight grin.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Kaidan continued on, completely ignoring Miranda, "and I said what I did because I was listening to the information I'd been given – the information from people I trusted. I didn't know…"

"Jeff didn't need others to tell him I was me. Garrus followed me without a second thought. I expected the same from you. Hell, I thought you would find me," Shepard roared as she blinked back tears. She paused to take several deep breaths and regain control, and that was the only sound in the room. Everyone froze at the rare sight of vulnerability from their mighty commander.

"I'm glad you're surrounded by people who trust you. I know Joker and Garrus will take care of you because they love you…"

The hooded woman gasped slightly as Jack chuckled knowingly. Shepard cocked her head in confusion, and then her eyes widened as understanding washed over her. All eyes flicked over to the turian. His back stiffened, but he didn't turn to meet her stare. Apparently that wasn't common knowledge, after all. That didn't matter at this point.

"You need to know that they aren't the only ones, though. I love you…"

"You said loved on Horizon. Past tense," Jack interrupted.

"You were pretty clear on that, Alenko," Garrus added for good measure.

"I know what I said," Kaidan said as he struggled to maintain his calm. "I was hurt and confused, and I didn't…"

"You were hurt?" Shepard yelled.

"Can I finish a damn thought?" Kaidan yelled back. Shepard blinked in surprise, but nodded slowly. He didn't mean to yell, and it only made him feel even more out of control. None of this was going like he hoped, but there was no going back now.

"I was hurt, Shepard. When you died you took a part of my heart with you. I locked myself away because the pain was too much to handle and I didn't want to share it. I refused to talk to anyone who tried until they all gave up. I deserved it, I earned that pain. I wouldn't even answer Joker's calls, but not because I blamed him; because I blamed myself. If I'd just disobeyed your orders and came with you…"

"It wasn't your fault. You would've only gotten yourself killed too," Shepard whispered.

"And I would've been fine with that. It would've been better than living without you." Kaidan's eyes lingered on Shepard's face – the face that filled his dreams from the moment their eyes met. Despite the subtle changes and impossible odds, it was still her somehow. "I started to think what if… what if some of those religions were right… what if there was an afterlife? What was so damn important to keep me here when there was a chance I could be with you…?" Kaidan looked away, unable to admit the truth to her face. "I started taking risky assignments nobody else wanted, drank myself half to death, got into insane bar fights, but I kept waking up every damn morning. And I hated it."

"Then one morning I woke up and looked in the mirror, and I thought about what you would say if you saw me like that. And I realized I needed to finish what you started. I needed to see the good in people, to help the little guy, to protect the universe from the threat we all knew was coming, because the best person for the job wasn't around anymore. I needed to be the light that went out when you died."


	13. Chapter 13

Oppressive silence filled the room thick as a fog rolling in off the emotional storm. This discussion was much too raw and private and really deserved to be held behind closed doors, but it was too late for that now. The hapless witnesses, now more hostages to the emotional exchange than anything else, froze helplessly as the drama unfolded before them. None of them knew how to react to the Alliance soldier's pure, unadulterated pain after he appeared so collected and emotionally distant on Horizon. His gaze was so desperate, so open…

Shepard looked away, frantically searching the room for something else to focus on lest the tightness in the back of her throat turn to actual tears. She focused on her crew instead. How were they handling this? Jack leaned back against the wall behind the bar, one eyebrow raised in appraisal as she took a long tug at the bottle in her hand. Her gaze flicked over to the commander but there was no smart remark, eye roll, or any other reaction she'd come to expect. If anything, the psychotic biotic seemed to be focused on Shepard's emotional well-being. That didn't help at all. If anything, it made her even more aware of the emotions she was fighting so hard to deflect so Shepard scanned the rest of the room in mild desperation. Miranda was busy searching the corpses - probably for any useful information since she was always focused on work. That wasn't nearly distracting enough so Shepard searched out the other two crew members. Garrus loomed over the drugged-out waitress almost protectively. Only the tilt of his head gave away the fact that he was listening. His back was to the room, but his slumped shoulders and hands limp at his side said more than enough. His hurt was obvious, and he wasn't the only one to feel that way. The bar's low light caught the beads of moisture on Kasumi's cheeks as her body trembled enough to be seen from half a room away. Only then did Shepard realize the full weight of her folly. Guilt hit her like a sucker punch and left her reeling. She'd been so damn focused on her own pain she didn't realize the hurt she caused in the people she cared for.

Gentle fingers cupped her chin and redirected her attention back to the place she feared and craved in equal measure, to the person who meant the most. Tears lined Kaidan's bloodshot eyes but the pain was softened by amazement and hope. His full lips trembled as he drank in the vision of her, seemingly unable to quench his thirst.

"And now you're back," he whispered reverently as his hand caressed her cheek.

"Don't," Shepard said as she pulled away from the outstretched hand. Nobody aside from Dr. Chakwas and Miranda had touched her exposed cybernetics and the fact that his hand was so close terrified her. She was different now and it was as clear as the nose on her face – more so, since her nose didn't glow. That was all the proof anyone needed. Maybe that was the point. Maybe it was just a test; one quick grope of the open wound to prove she wasn't 100% human.

The hurt and confusion on his face were almost too much. She'd been paranoid; that wasn't how Kaidan worked. If nothing else, he was painfully genuine and overly cautious. That gesture was nothing but pure acceptance and love.

A cool stillness washed over her body, and it wasn't just shock from blood loss setting in. Her brain went into self-preservation mode just as easily as her body, pushing all those pesky emotions deep into the recesses of the mind to deal with later, if at all. That was the only way to finish this the way it had to end - the only way that would let her sleep at night… hopefully. In reality, that's when those deep recesses opened and let all the dark stuff out, but at least it was within the confines of her locked cabin when nobody was around to hear the sobs. And there would be sobs.

"I can't do this, Kaidan," Shepard said simply. "We can't do this. It was nice while it lasted but that time has passed."

"Why? Are you trying to hurt me like I hurt you?"

"No," she replied with an almost bitter chuckle, "it's just the opposite, actually." And it was the truth. She'd been so blinded by her own feelings of loss, desperation, and eventual rejection that his emotional well-being never fully occurred to her. She made a half-ass assumption after the fact, but it was so far from reality it may as well have been no consideration at all. He was suicidal after her death. He simply gave up, yet he somehow clawed his way back from the edge. He found a new sense of purpose and a renewed zest for life, and he honestly deserved it. She couldn't just show up and take it all away.

"This…" Shepard gestured at herself with one hand without shifting too much. The bar was all that kept her upright at this point and even the smallest movements were risky. If she lost her balance now the floor was the only thing to stop her fall since she simply had no strength left. "This is just temporary. The only reason I'm alive at all is to stop the Collectors - and I will - but that means going through the Omega-4 Relay. "

"No… you can't…" Kaidan whispered in horror.

"I have to," Shepard interrupted matter-of-factly, pointedly ignoring the disgusted huff from the other side of the room. He deserved to know and if Miranda didn't like it then that was just too damn bad. There was nothing he or anyone could do to stop them anyway. "I'm the only one who's trying to stop the Collectors to begin with, but it would be me and my team even if that wasn't the case. We're all outcasts who've lost too much already, misfits without a place to fit in. It's a hell of a lot easier to prepare yourself for a one-way trip when you have nothing to come back to."

"You have me."

Shepard shook her head slowly, steeling herself for what had to be done. A soft, sympathetic smile hid the torment within as all her private hopes and dreams died silently to protect the man in front of her. "Forget about me. Find someone who makes you happy and settle down. Have the big, happy family you always wanted…"

"I only wanted that with you," his hoarse voice cut in.

"That was never really possible and we both know it," Shepard responded quietly. Tension radiated through her head and neck, her too-slow pulse pounding in her ears until that was practically all she heard. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, partially to keep the tears at bay but mostly because any sight of those warm eyes and her resolve would unravel. "My place in the universe disappeared two years ago. I don't belong here anymore. All I can do now is work my ass off to make sure you're...  _everyone_ is as safe as possible before it catches back up with me, because it's only a matter of time." Shit. She slipped up and there was no way he missed it. The fresh twinkle in his eye said it all. Now he knew she still cared. "Sorry," Shepard mumbled as she ungracefully twisted along the bar. It was damn near impossible to turn her back on him since she was holding herself up to begin with, but she found a way and didn't give a shit how awkward it looked. "That's all I have to say on the issue."

Shepard finally felt a little more in control now that her back was to the room so she didn't have to face the emotional weight upon her. "Miranda, help Kasumi with the waitress," she ordered confidently. Back to work. That always helped. A quick nod of the head was all it took to get Jack working on another drink and the familiar dual-toned voice in the background meant Garrus resumed his calls without being told. Hopefully everyone would stay busy enough to keep off her ass until Kaidan left. Then Garrus would need to rush over to patch her up since she wasn't going anywhere in this condition. Miranda was the obvious choice but she currently had a stick up her ass so long she probably couldn't even bend at the waist and there was no way Shepard would let her close in that mood. She wasn't big on bedside manner when she was in a good mood. All that had to wait until there was more privacy, though, because none of her wounds were visible despite the meager clothing. Medical care would require stripping and that was something that didn't need to be seen by everyone.

Jack turned around with a fresh drink – a strong one based on the fumes. One eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly as she glanced over Shepard's shoulder before setting the drink down. That was the only warning Shepard got.

"You can't protect me," Kaidan whispered in her ear. "If you die..." a deep sigh shuddered from the depths of his soul, but he pushed through, "it will break my heart all over again no matter what."

Shepard pulled back in shock, the sudden movement throwing her off balance until she teetered dangerously on the edge of the bar. Sheer stubbornness alone kept her upright, but damned if she'd admit it openly. She slowly turned her head to focus on the man's tired yet perceptive features. That little display was all the assurance he needed that his assumption was correct.

"I won't try to change your mind, no matter how disappointed I may be," he said through a gentle, sad frown. "But will you at least let me patch you up before I go… for old time's sake? Or are you going to stubbornly bleed out here in the bar just to prove a point?"

A bolt of indignant anger coursed through Shepard at the accusation, and then she noticed the sad smile tugging at the corners of the man's mouth. He was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. "You're just trying to get me out of my clothes," Shepard shot back, and he blinked in surprise. Two could play that game. "I don't think everyone needs to see this mess, though. Nobody's touching me unless I have something to maintain a modicum of privacy." There were some things coworkers simply didn't need to see and her bare body was at the top of that list.

"You realize how you're dressed, right?" he teased gently.

Shepard smiled despite herself, but it froze the second Miranda's voice cut through the room. "If you need medical attention I should..."

"No," Shepard interrupted without even making eye contact. Instead, she was busy trying to will Garrus to turn around. His was the only other opinion she actually wanted.

"Need I remind you I was..."

"No. I'm very aware of your qualifications and right now I don't really give a damn. Now don't make me throw another glass to prove a point because Jack gave me the heavy stuff this time. It'll leave a pretty mark."

That finally did it; Garrus turned around to see if she was actually serious. She was, but only a little; it was an idle threat she would only follow through on if pushed, but thankfully Miranda backed down. Once Shepard had his attention she shrugged slightly. He was a good friend and she trusted him implicitly; she wouldn't do this if he didn't think it was a good idea. It took a few moments, but Garrus eventually sighed and nodded. That was all she needed. They had a lot to talk about but that could wait. There was plenty of time to do so back on the Normandy. This had to happen now.

"There's a back room over here," Jack interjected. She saw the little interaction and knew what it meant. Everyone turned to her in surprise. "What, you guys didn't think this was my first time in this shithole did you?" she asked with a broad grin.

That was as good a solution as any. The truth was her body was giving out she needed immediate medical attention. Beyond that, she and Kaidan had a lot more to discuss since he saw through her so easily. This time it had to be in private. That was one lesson learned.

Shepard made eye contact with the marine and nodded, but made no attempt to move. Instead, she waited for him to approach. She knew he would; the melodic hum and gentle tickle of his biotics working with hers promised as much. She only admitted the truth once he was close, his cheek almost touching hers. "I don't think I can walk in there on my own," she whispered in his ear. "My leg is torn up and won't hold my weight."

"Which side?" he asked quietly.

Shepard jerked her head to the side and he nodded. That was the side he slipped under, supporting her weight fully while giving everyone else the impression that she was walking with minimal assistance, and the followed Jack into the darkest depths of the bar.


	14. Chapter 14

"I'm only the bloody person who put her back together to begin with..." Miranda muttered as she stormed past Garrus. Snide little comments like this started the moment Shepard disappeared from view and continued unabated. At least that's what he assumed the grumblings were. He honestly wasn't paying any attention to her and the dramatic little show of displeasure. There were more pressing matters on his mind.

Dismal reminders of their current situation were everywhere he looked. A staggering amount of dead bodies littered the ground, a testament to everything Shepard survived so far (as well as how much trouble she stirred up when left to her own devices). That wasn't particularly surprising, and the only concerning part about it was the fact that she'd done this without anyone at her six. All she had to do was ask. He'd have her back, no questions asked, no matter what. But she didn't. And that lead to the really troubling part of the scene.

The turian's traitorous eyes locked on the congealing trail to the back room. Every dark droplet caused a fresh pang of guilt that took hold and wouldn't let go, but that wasn't enough self-torture to ease the burden. There would never be enough if things went bad. Garrus closed his eyes and shook his head as if that would magically wipe the slate clean, but he knew it wouldn't. At least it was a short respite from the proof of his failure as a friend and companion. Shepard was hurt and he knew it as soon as Alenko said something. The sniper scope told him everything he needed to know... but he failed to act. How could he? He forgot about everything the moment he saw them together, as soon as he saw the way her eyes lit up at the other man's presence. And now it could be too late. Garrus turned away before daring to open his eyes again. He simply wasn't able to face the telling trail any longer. Unfortunately, there was no escaping proof of Shepard's injuries. Sticky darkness stained the bar and dripped slowly into a dark ugly puddle on the floor. And the sinking feeling in his gut told him it was much too large to be caused by a mere flesh wound.  They may have put on a good show, but Shepard did not walk into that back room; Alenko practically carried her. And no simple patch-up job took this long. The world tilted as the reality of the situation hit home. Things were direr than she let on; it was just a question of how much.

"Vakarian!" Miranda's shout finally broke through the shock and pain. "About time you respond," she muttered under her breath as Garrus turned slowly to face the unhappy woman. "Are you just keeping me here for decoration, or do you have some actual work for me to do?"

Garrus fought the urge to snap at the Cerberus operative. There was no telling what kind of evening she left behind for this, and she was obviously lashing out because her ego was wounded since Shepard chose someone else to tend to her wounds. Responding in kind would only make things worse. "Make sure the waitress is fit for travel. My contacts located a proper rehab facility and have already started the process." Garrus ignored the exasperated huff his little order received. Instead, he simply added on to it. "And then you can transport her. She has a young child who's waiting for his mom, so make sure she's as presentable as possible, too." Miranda may be second-in-command on the Normandy, but not out in the field. That was a position Garrus earned through a literal trial-by-fire and everyone knew it. Shepard didn't explicitly order Miranda to complete the mission but she more than earned it with her attitude.

Kasumi smiled as she left Miranda to her task and approached Garrus, but it was sad… almost sympathetic. That was the last thing he wanted, but that didn't matter to her. "How are you holding up?" she asked delicately.

"Fine; why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't have to put on an act for my benefit." Kasumi cocked her head to one side and her dark eyes glittered within the shadow of her hood as she carefully watched the turian. "I know you've accomplished everything that soldier has and then some. And you have way more style while you do it, too. I mean, you're Archangel; you have fan clubs for heaven's sake. I bet he doesn't." Her soft had patted his arm. "Shep knows it too, because you've been by her side the entire time. You're an important part..."

"It's over, isn't it? I lost…"

"Any other person, any other time, there'd be no contest." Kasumi smiled encouragingly, but that wasn't going to be enough and they both knew it. "I knew that look on Shepard's face the moment I saw it, though. It was what I felt inside every time I saw Keiji. Shepard's heart belongs to him - completely. She loves him. Even after all he did and said her feelings never wavered."

"That's what I was afraid of," Garrus muttered. His shoulders slumped from the sudden weight of reality pressing on them.

"Love is nothing more than an illusion caused by the brain's chemistry. It's just there to keep two people together long enough to procreate," Miranda interjected smarmily as she finished scanning the waitress.

"Says the woman who probably never found anyone else perfect enough to love," Kasumi mumbled, but it was loud enough for those perfect ears to pick up.

"No... Says the woman who was not fortunate enough to have her relationship end in death," Miranda shot back with barely controlled venom. Her hands jerked with the last word, the rude sentiment punctuated by the wet crack of bones sliding into place. Kasumi gasped in shock, Garrus's mandibles flared in disbelief, and the waitress uttered a rather subdued and delayed "ouch". No wonder Shepard didn't want Miranda to patch her up. "Things get significantly less romantic once the love-haze slips and you're back in the real world. Not that you'd know."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jack screamed from across the room as Kasumi disappeared from sight. Only the soft sound of weeping assured them she hadn't fled into the night. "We get it – you're a bitter bitch. You're probably going to die angry and alone if you keep it up, and you'll deserve it. That doesn't mean you need to shit on everyone else."

"Hey!" Garrus shouted to be heard over the start of an ugly shouting match. "Shepard's in the next room and she doesn't need to deal with this right now. Get it under control. Miranda, take the waitress to the clinic; they're expecting her. Jack, go with her to make sure she doesn't get jumped."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "And who will protect her from me?"

"You could try," Miranda taunted.

"Fine; take her by yourself if you're that cocky. Just remember - anything happens to the waitress and you'll have to answer to Shepard. She didn't practically give her life to protect that woman for you to lose it by not playing well with others."

"Consider it done," she replied icily as she yanked the barely-conscious waitress to her feet and led her out the door.

"Hey Kasumi, want a drink? I'm buying," Jack called out to the empty void. 

A stool grated across the floor as it pulled up to the bar. That was as good an answer as any. Everything seemed to be in control so this was a good a time to check on Shepard. Honestly, he barely avoided barging in back there for the last half hour as it was. They'd been back there far too long and his concern could no longer be pushed aside.

The door to the back office slid open to reveal a scene of utter chaos. It was almost as if… Shepard had been there. Nobody could destroy a place quite like her. Data pads, overturned boxes, and crates of liquor littered the floor, making it almost impossible to venture deeper in to the darkness. Sparks from a fallen terminal were the only source of light within the room, and the sporadic flashes mainly illuminated the floor when it lay. None of the other lighting would turn on. How could anyone work under these conditions? Garrus pulled out a light source and swept it over the scene. The desk was the only clear area in the room, and even it wasn't spotless. A small puddle of dark fluid marred the dull metal – most likely Shepard's blood. At least that was proof he was in the right place. More evidence of her wounds became clear as his eyes adjusted to the lighting. Stained towels and rags littered almost every surface, the dark smears proof of her grievous injuries. But where was she?

"Shepard?" Garrus called out tentatively. Unease settled in his gut with every passing second of silence. "Alenko, is everything ok?"

The shadows behind the desk shifted. What if someone had slipped through Shepard's initial attack and laid in wait? That would explain the blood, and the two missing soldiers… Garrus jerked the light over to the movement and froze, his heart dropping through his feet in an instant.

Alenko leaned heavily into the corner. Blood smeared across his face, the deep crimson coloring most of his forehead and one cheek save a thick line washed clean by tears, but he wouldn't look up. His dark eyes remained locked on the still form in his lap. A heavy sigh shuddered through the soldier, the small movement just enough to shake the hood loose from the shock of red hair against his chest. Trembling hands smoothed the flaming mane and pulled the hood back into place.

"Kaidan," Garrus whispered. His voice was tight from panic, "is she…"

Kaidan shook his head slowly. "No, she fell asleep. The night finally caught up to her."

The turian practically collapsed with relief but somehow managed to hold it together. There'd be time for that later, once Shepard was safely aboard the Normandy. Only then would he be able to fully relax. Garrus cautiously approached and offered a hand to the Alliance marine where it hovered, unnoticed.

Kaidan didn't see it; his eyes were closed as he cherished this little moment of peace. He pulled Shepard close to his chest, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he breathed in her scent, and the hood fell away, forgotten. The changes in Shepard’s features were profound. All the little signs of wear were gone from the Commander's face, replaced by a sweet upturn of her lips. She hadn't looked that serene the entire time she'd been back and yet she found comfort nestled in against hard armor. She was home.

"I just…" Kaidan's voice cracked with emotion, but he pushed on, "I didn't think I'd have to say goodbye to her again so soon." A single tear rolled down his cheek and disappeared into Shepard's hair.

Garrus blinked several times, his mandibles pulsing in confusion. "You're not… the two of you aren't…"

"No," Alenko laughed humorlessly, "Shepard never changes her mind once she makes a decision. You know that."

Soft blue light filled the room, illuminating the raw scene. Kaidan wrapped his biotics around Shepard to hold her in place as he adjusted his grip and stood unassisted. Shepard shifted slightly in his arms to snuggle in against his chest. Bare feet and pale ankles peeked out from under the black cloak as it slipped just a fraction. The cool air chilled the exposed flesh and she mumbled her disapproval into his neck as she slept. Ever attentive, he adjusted the cloak and pulled the hood back in place with loving tenderness. A small, wistful smile played along his lips as he enjoyed the last fleeting moments of their time together. 

"Take care of her, Garrus," Alenko pleaded as he approached the turian. "She gets so focused on everyone else she forgets about herself. Make sure she's cared for, too."

The full weight of the request hit Garrus so hard he nearly stumbled. All he could do was nod earnestly until he found his voice. "I promise."

A shuddering sigh, the sound of a breaking heart, filled the room as Kaidan offered up his burden.

"You know what, Alenko? I hurt my shoulder earlier," Garrus lied to his friend. "You should probably carry her home."


	15. Chapter 15

Dreams, warm and pleasant for the first time since... _before_ , disappeared as if by the flip of a switch, leaving nothing but emptiness and pulsing pain in its wake. Unfortunately, once the bright fire of consciousness flickered to life there was no going back, no matter how great the dream or how exhausted the body. A low, gravely groan filled the silence. Everything hurt - every movement, every breath, even laying still. Shepard ignored the protestations of her swollen, bloodied knuckles and pulled a pillow over her face to block out the light clearly intent on her murder; that had to be the reason the bright rays seared through her closed lids and shredded her already tender brain. Darkness was her only protection but it couldn't ease the ache. Every single heartbeat echoed throughout her head; Hell, even her eyeballs had a pulse of their own, and the rhythmic throbs merged together, a wave of pain rippling through her as a not-so-gentle reminder she wasn't in her twenties anymore.

Hangovers were a real bitch and liquor was the devil. Now to find out what fresh hell it had gotten her into.

The first step was figuring out where the hell she was, and then she could assess the damages done. Shepard cracked one eye and peaked out from under the relative safety afforded by the pillow. It was almost impossible to see through the pulsing, but her cabin slowly came into view in the aquarium's soft light. So did the first casualties of the night. Another three fish floated along the top of the water with the patience of the dead. The Council could make a compelling case against her as a war criminal with only her aquarium as evidence if she ever ended up on their shit list, since she was single-handedly eradicating every single one in her care. Maybe it was time to take Kelly up on that offer… Nope. All the fish would die a slow, painful death before that Cerberus tattletale was welcomed into her cabin. Personal responsibility for her pets was the only other solution. A frustrated sigh turned into a jagged gasp as something deep within her chest pulled and the room began to swim.

What the hell happened last night?

That was the question, wasn't it? Shepard steeled herself and dove into the dark void that was the night before, pushed through the thick veil of several bottles of questionable alcohol, and instantly regretted it. Everything came rushing back at once, too fast to do anything but relent to the onslaught. Visions of the scores of dead, guilty of testing her mettle, and the people beat senseless along the way became a blur. So many victims, their blood still thick under her nails, but they brought about their own fate when their ill will met her fiery temper. But she fucked up. Innocent people got hurt, too. Images of Kasumi's tears, Garrus hanging his head in dejection, of Kaidan's amber eyes silently pleading… they haunted her more than all the dead combined.

"Fuck." The simple, one syllable word started as a moan but became a shriek as it drew out over several beats until dying into soft sobs. Even that rollercoaster wasn't enough to match what she felt inside. Shepard covered her face with one bare arm, desperate to blot out the sight of those tender eyes filled with so much pain, but it only made it worse. His scent clung to her skin, making her ache even more. It was too much to handle.

Pain, regret, and fear toyed with her, working in unison to send her plummeting over the edge. He was free of her, free to find a happy life elsewhere. Her stomach churned as she realized the full weight of her decision, despite her confidence it was the right thing to do. Now her future was empty. It was just as well since chances were good they weren't coming back from the relay. He didn't need the baggage she came with, didn't need to face losing her a second time. She swallowed against the hard lump in her throat and panicked when she discovered it wasn't just emotions.

Shepard gagged on bile as she flung herself out of bed and ran for the toilet. She completely forgot about the toll the previous night took on her body, of all the wounds she'd endured. Though definitely on the mend, her wounded leg found the sudden movement taxing and the few stairs proved too much. It simply gave out, sending her sprawling across the floor. Those were going to be some pretty bruises, but they had plenty of company.

"Do you need assistance, Commander?" EDI's even voice filled the cabin, but Shepard ignored it. She didn't dare open her mouth because chances were good it wouldn't be words that escaped. Instead, she threw the few remaining shreds of dignity aside and crawled to the bathroom with surprising speed.

With the most pressing task completed, Shepard sought solace in the confines of the small bathroom under the cleansing shower. The steam blotted out the real world so this one small room became her temple. The cool tiles supported her, the splashing a requiem for the dead that masked her sobs and moans, the sting of soap in open wounds her penance, and the water washed away her sins along with her tears. The previous night, and everything it symbolized, slowly circled the drain and disappeared. She had the one thing she needed: closure. That was what every personal mission came down to, and this was no different. Now it was time to move forward.

Shepard rose shakily, but with purpose, and limped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a look of resigned determination. It all fell away the second she saw her desk.


End file.
